


If you

by FreeShavocadoo



Series: SWORD songfics [1]
Category: HiGH&LOW (Movies), HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Deteriorating Relationships, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 12:52:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeShavocadoo/pseuds/FreeShavocadoo
Summary: Sometimes, Tsukumo doesn't recognise the man standing in front of him.*Based on the song 'If You' by BigBang.





	If you

_He is leaving_

_And I can’t do anything,_

_Love is leaving_

_Like a fool, I’m blankly standing here._

 

Meeting Tsukumo for the first time seemed to be the template for their relationship in general, Kohaku thinks. An abundance of conflict, differing opinions, an instant connection and unstable loyalty. The same way he’d once sacrificed himself for Tsukumo, Tsukumo had reciprocated multiple times since, putting himself in harms way so often it was a miracle he was still alive. Countless afternoons spent at his bedside meant Kohaku could practically remember every detail of Tsukumo’s face, every freckle and frown line. It didn’t make it any easier looking at him, though. When Kohaku leaves before Tsukumo is even awake, he’s positive that its for the best, focusing more on revenge than the aching in his chest. It’s only made worse by the look on Tsukumo’s face when he’s eventually left standing over Tatsuya’s grave by himself when Kohaku leaves him, resolute that if he turns back there’s no way he’d have the will to do in his mind, what needs to be done. There is no place for love in revenge.

_I’m looking at him, getting farther away_

_He becomes a small dot then disappears._

_Will this go away after time passes?_

_I remember the old times_

_I remember you._

Kohaku can see the lack of expression when Tsukumo breaks the arm of a Daruma member, the way his eyes seem to have lost any semblance of their previous twinkle. He’s sure he remembered less frown lines on Tsukumo’s face when he was back in the hospital bed, he thinks. The Yakuza meeting makes Kohaku nervous underneath a show of bravado, yet Tsukumo seems bored almost, displaying even less importance on his own safety by openly challenging the Yakuza. Even when Kohaku slams his legs up onto the table it does little to stop Tsukumo, who’s taunting smile and mockery don’t reach his eyes, the tone too deadpan to indicate that he’s receiving any enjoyment out of it. Whereas before Tsukumo would’ve been the one to caution Kohaku for his quick temper and actions, when Kirinji attempts to silence him, Tsukumo holds little back. The slam of Kirinji’s head on the table is deafening but Tsukumo’s indifference is worse.

 

_How about you?_

_Are you really fine?_

_Our break up is here_

_I should forget you but it’s not easy._

 

Tsukumo’s concerns fall on deaf ears, his jaw remaining clenched whenever Lee interrupts him to discuss plans with Kohaku, Tsukumo’s eyes promising violence but his mouth remaining shut. When he tells Tsukumo it’s a relief he woke up, he truly means it, yet Tsukumo’s face remains stoic as he simply asks what exactly Kohaku plans to do next. He wonders when their conversations began to become purely strategy related. Before he has a chance to explain himself, Tsukumo interrupts.

“Give up on your revenge.” He spits out, even though is face doesn’t change Kohaku has never heard him so furious, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

Kohaku takes a moment to breathe properly, rubbing at his temple. The anxiety that’s been plaguing him ever since Tatsuya’s death hangs heavy, like a dark cloud.

“I didn’t even ask anything when I woke up,” he continues, his voice rising, “you know who it is, right?” He takes a pause before continuing, his voice returning to normal, “The person who attacked us.”

Kohaku discards his cigarette on the floor, staring at the wall before him, staring at Tatsuya’s legacy. A dirty wall in a place that Kohaku had stained the memory of, filling it with nameless faces to fill a hole left by a friendship he hadn’t even lost yet until it was too late.

“Everything is my fault.” He says, Tsukumo’s eyebrows raising, “It’s because I didn’t disband Mugen.”

The silence is deafening, Tsukumo watching as Kohaku’s walls begin to crumble, the grief catching so hard in his throat it threatened to choke him.

“That Tatsuya died.” Kohaku chokes out, his voice wavering.

Before he even crumples forward, Tsukumo has already darted across the room at a startling speed, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket with such ferocity he nearly lifts him off the floor.

“It’s not only your fault!” His voice is just as pained as Kohaku’s, the display of emotion more intense than anything Kohaku has ever seen on him, his eyes staring so ferociously into Kohaku’s own he feels like he’s completely bare in front of him.

“I can’t stop thinking about it!” Kohaku becomes more frantic, pointing towards his head, the tone of distress making his voice shake even more, “whatever I do, it goes back to the same thing.”

Tsukumo’s expression shifts so quickly through every emotion it’s hard for Kohaku to deduce what he’s actually thinking.

“I can’t forgive myself for killing Tatsuya.” Kohaku’s voice is now void of any emotion, resolute in his statement and his bid for revenge. When Tsukumo looks at him, it’s almost like he’s looking at a stranger, weary-eyed and suspicious.

“When you were in a coma, I felt like I was in hell.” He continues, face still inches from Tsukumo’s, his silver eye practically piercing him. “Ever since then, time has stopped for me.”

He looks down, almost as though he’s afraid he’s revealed too much, before looking back up.

“That’s why I need to take revenge on Kuryu,” his voice rises once more, “I’m going to keep fighting until Kuryu is destroyed!”

He steps back and for a moment Tsukumo thinks it summarises the distance between them perfectly. Always an inch from something before taking ten steps back.

“Tsukumo, I have no intention of bringing you into this.” He pats Tsukumo’s shoulder stiffy and Tsukumo wants to laugh in his face, wants to punch him for making him feel this way. For claiming he didn’t want to bring him into something after so long of being just in touching distance before cruelly yanking himself away from Tsukumo, never content with anything or anyone after Tatsuya.

“What happens after you revenge?” Tsukumo interrupts him again, frowning as he blinks back tears, “will time start for you again?”

Kohaku laughs bitterly, looking behind Tsukumo at the wall again, a relic from the past. “Yes.”

“In that case, I will carry it out with you then,” Tsukumo turns to look at him even though every fibre of his being is telling him to just leave, to cauterise the wound before it festers, “we don’t abandon our friends in Mugen.”

Even when Kohaku’s expression blurs around the edges, it’s barely a fragment of the man that shielded him from harm once, inviting him into a family that meant the world to him.

 

 

_I’m looking at him, getting farther away_

_He becomes a small dot then disappears._

_Will this go away after time passes?_

_I remember the old times_

_I remember you._

 

“If you die,” Tsukumo spits out, “time will stop forever!”

He marches over to Kohaku, stopping before the man that once meant the world to him. What he sees is barely a shadow in comparison to the Kohaku that once blazed as fiercely as the sun. His stare is cold and lifeless.

“Tsukumo. Don’t get in my way anymore.”

Tsukumo’s gut wrenches and he can barely breathe, wondering when the man he loved so much started to have such a penchant for cruelty and disregard. Kohaku’s fist lands on him and he doesn’t even try to defend himself, attempting to reason with someone he knows is already too far gone. His fist makes contact with Kohaku’s cheek so hard his knuckles sting and yet it’s nothing compared to the dull ache in his heart, the sting in his eyes that have cried too much to even shed another tear.

Both manage to land substantial hits, Kohaku being more successful because he’s running on fumes, on self-resentment and revenge. Tsukumo just wants to feel something, yet even when Kohaku crumples under his punches he can barely feel a flicker of anything. The fight is painful in more ways than one, any reservations either had crumpling like the table that shatters under Tsukumo’s weight, shards of glass scattering everywhere.

The shards seem to follow him when he’s thrown out of the window, his hands covered in so much blood he can barely tell where the cuts are. He wonders now if Kohaku meant what he said, about time stopping when Tsukumo was in a coma, that it was hell for him. Tsukumo feels this is more like hell. He’s not sure if the physical even touches upon the emotional pain he’s suffering. Yet like the dutiful friend he is, the loyal companion, he gets back up just so Kohaku can beat him back down.

 

Even when Yamato and Cobra show up, even when Tsukumo gets back to his feet and yells so loudly he feels like he’ll never speak again, lunging headfirst yet again into punches and kicks so hard he can’t feel anything at all, he knows this is it. Kohaku can get on his knees and cry to Cobra and Yamato for hurting them all he wants, keys in his hand, another relic. But Tsukumo knows that part of Kohaku died with Tatsuya, the same way part of Tsukumo died when Kohaku laid a hand on him.

_On days where thin rain falls like today,_

_I remember your shadow._

_Our memories that I secretly put in my drawer,_

_I take them out again and reminisce by myself._

_Why didn’t I know_

_About the weight of sadness_

_That comes with breaking up?_

 

Sitting by himself in his apartment, Tsukumo allows himself to look at the box of memories one last time. Pictures of smiling faces, free spirits, a family. He runs his thumb over them, recalling a time when these pictures brought him comfort and made him smile ear to ear. He’d never had much of a family to begin with, the only one he ever considered were all in these pictures. He allows himself a brief second to reconsider, to acknowledge that moving on from Kohaku means losing all of his family. That his inability to look Kohaku in the eyes ever again means he’ll also never see Cobra’s shy smile, Yamato’s wild hand gestures, Naomi’s sweet laugh. That Itokan will be another memory he’ll have to discard in order to move on.

When he stands out on his balcony and flings the pictures into the ashtray, the flames picking away at the faces that will haunt his dreams, part of him wonders if Kohaku is thinking the same.

_If you,_

_If you._

_If it’s not too late,_

_Can’t we get back together?_

_If you,_

_If you._

_If you’re struggling like I am,_

_Can’t we make things a little easier?_

_I should’ve treated you better when I had you._

 

Kohaku stands in front of the door for what seems like an eternity, staring at the familiar scuffed handle and shabby doormat. He knocks quickly, trying to rid himself of the anxiety building up in him before it spills over. When nothing happens, he knocks several more times, each more frantic. The need to know spurs his impulsivity, kicking the door open.

The apartment that used to be so cluttered that barely any sunlight shone through is empty, only the bare bones remaining. There are marks in the wall from countless picture frames that once inhabited it, scuff marks on the floor from the makeshift chairs that always used to be scattered on the floor so there was enough room for everyone to sit in there. Even the dints in the wall seem less severe, a reminder of drunken missteps and intoxicated stupidity.

Even though he knows its fruitless, Kohaku searches for a note frantically, checking the bed and the cabinet tops, even the kitchen. There is virtually nothing left. It’s only when Kohaku turns to leave he notices it, a worn denim jacket hanging on the battered armchair, still covered in badges, the big patch on the back still intact, the word making Kohaku’s eyes sting.

_Mugen._

So much for forever.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. This is unusual for me because I love fluffy endings but. I hope it's still an interesting read?


End file.
